


In the kitchen, in space

by HapaxLegomenon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Food, Gen, Quizsnacks: A Voltron Cookbook, Team as Family, Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapaxLegomenon/pseuds/HapaxLegomenon
Summary: Hunk and Shiro meeting in the kitchen, three times.Includes:MicrowaveForm Bento!The Art of Substitution
Relationships: Hunk & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	In the kitchen, in space

**Microwave**

Shiro had nearly everything he needed laid out on the counter before him. Flour, salt, and sugar -- glittering, pink sugar, because space -- and a dilution of the food goo to use as oil. All he still needed was the cocoa powder. He knew that there was some kind of chocolatey-powder ingredient somewhere, because of the hot chocolate Hunk made the other day, but it wasn't with the other baking ingredients. He was bent over, rummaging in one of the pantries, when he heard a voice say, “Um.”

Shiro startled, thumping the top of his head on the cupboard door. It was well past midnight, Castle time, and he wasn't expecting anyone. When he straightened, rubbing ruefully at the back of his head, he saw Hunk in the doorway with a sheepish expression.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Hunk apologized. “I wasn’t expecting you to be in here, and -- hold on.” Hunk’s eyes narrowed, and he gave Shiro a look of mingled suspicion and fear. “You’re not trying to _cook_ , are you?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “I’m not _that_ bad,” he protested, but it was half-hearted at best. There was a reason he was banned from helping with dinner, after all. “I’m just making a mug brownie, Hunk, I think I can manage.”

Hunk made a face. “Ugh, why would you want to, though? Here, gimme that, I’ll make some real brownies, I need to stress-bake anyway.” He leaned over to grab the flour, but Shiro reached out and snagged his wrist.

“No!” Shiro said, a little bit too loud and a little bit too fast. Embarrassment warmed his cheeks, doubling when Hunk only responded by raising his eyebrows. For a moment, Shiro struggled over the reaction; it felt silly, and unnecessary, but _god_ , all he really wanted from the universe right then was a mug full of gooey, chocolatey cake. 

“Dude,” Hunk started, while Shiro silently debated with himself, “what gives?”

Shiro sighed. “It’s nothing,” he answered. “I used to make them all the time, that’s all. Not a big deal.” Back before everything, when he couldn’t sleep, from overnighters before exams to stressing over missions to worrying about his future as his muscles threatened to melt off his bones.

In the year before the Kerberos mission, Shiro spent a lot of late nights in the kitchen with a mug in his hand. He hadn’t had the opportunity, since.

Hunk’s eyes softened, and he pulled his hand back. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, voice low. As Shiro watched, torn between feeling ridiculous and relieved, Hunk opened a high cupboard and pulled out the canister with the cocoa powder. He also grabbed a second mug, setting it on the counter beside Shiro’s.

“I made some ice cream with the leftover milk from Kaltenecker this morning,” Hunk said. “I was gonna save it for tomorrow but I think we can get into it tonight.”

Shiro took the cocoa powder and smiled despite himself.

* * *

**Form Bento!**

“Um,” Hunk said, walking into the kitchen with Lance on his heels, “what are you doing?”

There was a wariness in his voice -- and okay, sure, Shiro wasn’t known for his culinary prowess, but he was starting to get offended. He really wasn’t as much of a disaster as Hunk liked to paint him, thank you very much. He’d managed to keep himself alive and fed for a long time before Voltron. Granted, his signature dishes weren’t fancy, macaroni from a box or simple omelettes on rice, but there were some meals he liked to think he was pretty good at. 

“What does it look like, Hunk?” he said, keeping his voice even and raising his eyebrows for maximum effect.

“Are you making lunch?” Lance asked with a grin. Hands tucked in his back pockets, he peered around Shiro’s shoulder at the row of square containers. His face lit up with a bright, delighted smile and he flapped one hand frantically in Hunk’s direction. “Hunk, Hunk come look at these! Lion bentos! There’s one for each of us!”

Shiro smiled and cut another piece of red pepper to tuck against the Black Lion’s back.

* * *

**The Art of Substitution**

The Altean baking mixes were a good substitute for handmade dough; like flour, only better, because somehow they worked even without yeast or baking powder. And they were delicious, with a savoury undertone that Hunk still hadn’t managed to replicate with Earth ingredients. He always said that there was no beating Earth pastries, but for keke pua’a, Hunk found that the Altean mix was just as good, if not better.

He just had to make sure his grandfather or mother never heard him say so.

Hunk hummed as he worked. The galley on the Atlas was state-of-the-art, everything he’d ever wanted in a kitchen, and he was in his element helping Shiro with the ongoing diplomatic talks. After all, the way to anyone’s heart was through their stomach, and if Hunk could keep everybody full and happy throughout negotiations and mediations, well, he considered that a job well done. Plus, getting to tinker with recipes and new ingredients was one of life’s greatest joys. Cooking was the perfect blend of science and art. Hunk loved it.

The dough worked up quickly, kneading into a satisfyingly bouncy ball under his hands, and he had shifted from humming to cheerful whistling by the time he set the dough aside to proof.

Traditional keke pua’a buns used a mixture of pork and sharp vegetables, with soy sauce and honey for flavour, and Hunk knew the recipe like the back of his hand. He whipped up a quick batch of filling, then rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Now for the fun part,” he said to himself. 

He had the meat of an amphibious creature from one of their ally Balmeras that he’d been dying to try, and a soft fruit with seeds that tasted like gingery citrus. There was a flower that one of the Taujeerian colonies cultivated that smelled like shoes until you stewed it, which produced a sweet, sticky syrup with a flavour almost reminiscent of rosemary crossed with lavender. One of the races at the table today was known universe-wide for their tuber agriculture, and another were adept game hunters. Hunk spent hours playing with flavour profiles and mixing ingredients until he had a huge platter of steamed buns, all filled with foods from across the universe and, in his opinion, cooked to perfection.

Shiro poked his head into the galley just as Hunk was placing the final garnishes on his plates. “Almost ready, Hunk?” he asked. He inhaled a long, appreciative sniff and gave a thumbs up. “Smells good.”

Hunk beamed. “Shiro! You’re just in time. I have the biscuits and gomae ready to go, and the tres leches cakes are in the fridge -- I finally managed to get the recipe from Veronica, since Lance wouldn’t tell me -- and the buns just came out of the steamer and they should definitely be eaten hot. Here, try this.” Without pausing for a response, Hunk shoved a keke pua’a into each of Shiro’s hands and then a third into his mouth.

Shiro choked a little, but he recovered quickly and his eyes widened. “S’good,” he managed around a mouthful of pork. He swallowed, and smiled. “It always is.”

**Author's Note:**

> These three ficlets were all written in 2018 for the [Quizsnacks: A Voltron Cookbook](https://quizsnack-zine.tumblr.com/) zine, like my earlier fic ["Biscuits and Jam,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132858) but hopefully are enjoyable on their own
> 
> >>Twitter [@paxlegomenon](https://twitter.com/paxlegomenon)


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